ught he had been very lavish for a party for a single day.
The bin for charcoal, which was the fuel used in the stove, was filled
full.

I selected a nice slice of beefsteak, and proceeded to cut up the
potatoes I was to fry. I was soon very busy, and wholly absorbed in my
occupation. I enjoyed it, and though it may not be the highest ambition
to be a cook, it is a very useful employment. There is an art about
cooking; and as I fried the potatoes, I thought it required just as
much science as it did to keep a set of books. If I had had Mrs.
Whippleton's treasure safe in my possession, I should have been
superlatively happy. I cooked all the potatoes I thought would be
required for dinner, even giving Miss Collingsby credit for an
unfashionably good appetite. The tea-kettle was boiling, and I was just
going to fill up the coffee-pot, when a shrill scream startled me, and
dissolved the spell which the delights of my occupation had woven
around me.

It was the voice of a lady, and of course it could be no other than
that of our beautiful passenger. At first it occurred to me that the
boom had swung over, and hit her upon the head; but the boat was still
heeled over to the leeward, as she had been for the last hour; and I
knew that the boom could not go over unless the boat came up to an even
keel. Then it flashed upon me that either the skipper or his fair
companion had fallen overboard. But I did not wait to discuss
probabilities or possibilities; I hastened on deck, passing through the
fore scuttle, which I had opened to give me air and light.

When I reached the deck, I was satisfied that the boom had not been the
author of the mischief, and that neither of the parties had fallen
overboard. The Marian still held her course towards the south-east, and
the skipper and the lady were both in the standing-room, though not in
the same position that I left them half an hour before. Mr. Waterford
was at the helm, of course; but Miss Collingsby was seated as far from
him as the limits of the seats would permit. I went aft, and saw that
the fair young lady was very red in the face, and apparently very
angry. I was puzzled at the situation, and quite unable to explain it.

"Is dinner ready, Phil?" asked Mr. Waterford.

"Not yet."

"Well, hurry it up. We are growing hungry," added the skipper; but I
saw that his desire to get rid of me was greater than his appetite.

"I heard a scream here," I replied, determined not to be